


Temissary?

by CheyanneChika



Series: CheyanneChika's Sterek Week [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Emissary Entry, Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, M/M, Sterek Week, Sterek Week 2017, Violence, eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 02:24:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12496456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheyanneChika/pseuds/CheyanneChika
Summary: Stiles is assigned as an Emissary for the Hale Pack.





	Temissary?

“Mom, what’s going on?” Derek asked.  He hadn’t been home in months, going to school in New York.  He’d stuck around after high school for two years, punishing himself for almost getting the pack killed and staying close to keep an eye out for any other hunters who might abuse one of his sisters or nieces or nephews in the same way.  Talia had told him enough was enough and told him to go to school when he turned twenty.

Now a third year at NYU, he was back for summer break.  He was hoping to ask his crush, a bright peppy freshman taking advanced courses, if he would be willing to visit him or let him visit as he knew they both lived in California, though Derek wasn’t sure where Stiles lived and it was a big state.

Stiles wasn’t really willing to talk about his personal life outside of what he did at school and how he constantly missed his friend Scott.  Derek had tried to find out, by stalking Facebook when casual conversation failed to bring it up, but his profile was set to private.

So he’d gone home for the summer with Stiles’ phone number and a small smile that it was an area code that might be local.  Or fifty miles away.  He missed when area codes were easier to use for location.

“Alan is leaving for the summer,” Talia told him, bringing him back to the present tension that filled the air around the house.  “His ‘secret protégé’ is going to be replacing him. They're coming by in a few minutes.”

Alan Deaton and secret protégé were not words Derek wanted in a sentence together unless ‘does not have a’ is between them.

“He’s training another one?”

“Has been for years, apparently,” Talia grumbled.  “The kid cured an asthma attack the vet assistant was having.  He’s been training his Spark ever since.  Alan says he has Emissary potential.  Working with us for the summer is supposed to be a final test?” she ended, making it a question.

“We’re letting a half-trained _kid_ be our magical protection?” Derek asked, already getting annoyed.

“A half-trained, out-of-practice kid,” Laura put in, appearing beside them.  She leaned gently against her brother and snarled at the sound of a car that was approaching their property, still a ways off.  “The kid was at college and is home for the summer.”

“To be fair,” Peter called from the kitchen where he sat with Derek’s father and niece, an iPad in hand, “Deaton wouldn’t have let him leave if he didn’t have good control.”

“Or if he was too weak to hurt anything,” Laura muttered.

The car, when it came, was a silver SUV and Deaton was the one who got out of the driver’s side door.

“Let’s go meet our temp Emissary,” Talia said, frustration in the human race as a whole evident.

Peter set aside the iPad and got up.  He was the only one of the pack that knew who the protégé was.  He had a healthy sense of paranoia and Deaton’s lax take on being an Emissary both annoyed Peter and inspired him to be extra nosy.  He couldn’t get beyond the waiting room’s ash barrier but he could look into windows.

The boy he’d seen training wasn’t anyone he recognized, though an hour of stalking gave him far more information than he could possibly want.

Stiles Stilinski  
High school student  
Senior  
Best friend named Scott  
Hormonal  
In love with a girl named Lydia  
Son of Sheriff Stilinski  
Has ADHD  
Very powerful Spark  
Not easy to manipulate without using others as hostages.

Stilinski would make a good Emissary if he could calm down long enough to actually breathe. 

He heard the other door open and reached the porch along with Cora, who was dragging herself from an upstairs room, in time for Derek to yell, “Stiles?!”

Oh good, Derek already knows him, that might make things easier.  Beside him, Cora and Malia said, in a much more annoyed voices, “Stiles?”

Stiles stopped dead, only half out of the car.  He went from surprised to fearful to panicked in one intake of breath.  Then he exhaled a single word.  “Derek?”

Derek’s face, Peter saw, was priceless.  He snorted and ignored the pain of his foot being stomped on by an annoyed alpha.

“Derek, you know our new Emissary?” she asked in a saccharine voice.

“I—” he started but Stiles cut him off.

“Y-y-you’re a werewolf?” he sputtered.

“You’re an Emissary?” he shot right back.

“Derek!” The low growl in Talia’s voice made answering her question an order.

“He’s a classmate at NYU.”

Talia nodded and looked her youngest daughter and niece.  “Girls?”

“High school,” they both replied, eerily in sync.

“Uh, yeah, hi.”  Stiles gave a little wave and both girls just stared stiffly back.  “I’m, uh, your temporary Emissary.  Your Temissary.”

“Please don’t call it that,” Deaton said with more emotion than any of the Hale Pack had ever heard from him.

“I like you already, Temissary,” Peter said, sidestepping his sister and strolling down the porch steps to shake Stiles’ hand.  Talia sighed and Malia moaned in exasperation.

She nodded and stepped down from the porch.  Stiles tilted his head to the side and left his neck exposed.  He got this part of his approach to the Hale Pack right, at least.  Talia leaned in and sniffed him.  She backed up a step and held out her hand.  “Talia Hale, Alpha.”

“Stiles Stilinski, Alpha Hale.”

“Stilinski,” Talia said, pulling the young man’s attention away from Peter and the creepy-uncle vibe he was giving off.  “As in Sherriff Stilinski?”

“My father,” Stiles replied, trying for the professional tone he’d planned for before seeing Derek, the hot guy from chemistry (wink wink) who was always broody, but tolerated Stiles’ crazy.  He had a teeny tiny—okay, ginormous—crush on the guy.  It hadn’t occurred to him that he was one of the Beacon Hills Hales, and thus part of a mysterious wolf pack that Deaton had mentioned but never clarified the who-they-are aspect.

“Does he know about this?”

“About you or about me?” he asked.  At her imperiously raised eyebrow, he relented.  “He knows I have a weird talent for making people feel better, but not that it’s magic.  He doesn’t know about werewolves at all.”

“Good to know, though he may need to be brought in if you become a member of our pack.”

“I’m just here temporarily, Alpha.  I don’t wanna impose.”

“Ah but if you are going back to New York in a couple of months, it would behoove you to be a pack member, primary Emissary or not, so that you can keep an eye on Derek.”  Talia didn’t give away her expressions on her face, but, if she had, Derek knew it would be a smirk.

“Uh, I, uhhh,” Sentences seemed beyond Stiles at the moment.

“We’ll have all summer to figure it out, either way,” Talia continued, lightly.  “Come along.”

Stiles looked at Derek who just rolled his eyes and followed his mother.  He’d been enjoying not having his pack breathing down his neck while he was away at school.

Still, he supposed he wouldn’t mind Stiles breathing down his neck.

Peter’s snort told him he was being too obvious.

_…Six months later…_

Only Stiles could pick a fight with an alpha without realizing it.  The alpha in question, young, angry and without firm control on his pack, if you could call two other wolves who were pissed off at you for killing their old alpha a pack, was stupid and wanted Stiles as the Emissary for his pack.

Stiles, not knowing this was the alpha, said no and joined Derek at their table in a bar that mostly catered to werewolves.  The furniture was all made of stainless steel and the floor was smooth laminate.  Bloody brawls were easy to clean up after.  This was supposed to be a date.  Derek had, very shyly, asked Stiles out and Stiles had accepted.

Being a human in the bar, he’d demonstrated a touch of magic, marking him an Emissary and the bar as a whole stopped caring about him.

This alpha hadn’t liked being snubbed for some beta who wasn’t even local.  He made his way over to the table, staggering only a little under the influence of wolfsbane whiskey.  Derek was still sober and it put him and the alpha on almost equal footing.  Stiles intervened then and turned the tables in their favor.

Then he pushed too far and Derek ripped the Alpha’s throat out while Stiles was slowing him down.

Stiles felt the death as Derek did and as the were’s blue glowing eyes turned red, Stiles felt a pull in his midsection.  There was nothing there on the surface but…

He reached into his magical core and found a rope of energy reaching out to Derek.

Well, whether this date would have worked out or not, Stiles was now Derek’s.  Irrevocably. 

He took the few steps around the still bleeding corpse to stand before Derek.  “Alpha Hale,” he said, voice clear.  “I will be your Emissary.”

Derek leaned forward, wolfy features fading back to human ones, and pressed their lips together.  Stiles tasted blood.  There were worse things, he decided and this time, he was the one to kiss Derek.

The End


End file.
